The Quarter Quell

Six || The Launch Room

 It's hard to sleep. It's too hot in the attic and there's no air conditioning. I can hear all of the sounds from the festival which is probably taking place outside. I was once a huge part of the festival and one of the most active participants. Even as a child, I would love the festivals they would hold to honour the Hunger Games. That's before I became a part of the Hunger Games. Now it's just a distraction from my sleep.

I wonder if I'll be able to sleep in the arena. I don't think I will. I have always had a hard time sleeping and I'm such a light sleeper that the slightest sound can wake me up. That could be a good thing in the arena - make it harder for them to attack me while I'm asleep. It could also make it impossible for me to rest.

Unable to sleep, I try to think about the arena. Another thing I would do as a child was eavesdrop in meetings. The ones between the Gamemakers in my father. I wasn't supposed to and probably would've been punished if my father found out, but I did it anyway. I wish I still did it now. Then I'd have an idea of what I'm facing. Whether I will be in a dense forest or in a barren wasteland. If I have to worry about water or food.

One year, I had managed to steal one of the blueprints for the arenas. There was a slight description of a machine on the mountaintops. I didn't know what it was until ten tributes from that year's Hunger Games died from an avalanche.

I shake the thoughts from my head and try to sleep again instead. I close my eyes tightly and eventually, the darkness succumbs me.

I dream of a girl. I have never seen her before but she feels oddly familiar. She's really young and looks no older than twelve at most. She's crying. I can't see her tears nor hear her cries but I know that she's crying.

I want to reach out to her. I try but then a massive dragon appears. It circles her, looking terrifying with smoke billowing out of its snout. The dragon looks at me as if daring me to fight it.

I charge at the monster. There's a sword in my hand - how did it get there - and with it I slash the dragon's wings. The wings fall off and for a moment, I grin victoriously. Until I see that the dragon has regrown its wings and it is coming for me.

It opens its mouth and roars and suddenly there's fire. I hold my sword in front of me, and even though it shouldn't be able to, the sword stops the fire. I don't wonder why because I am distracted by the dragon that lunges for me, with long claws that could easily kill a human.

I dodge it just barely. And then, instead of running as would probably be sensible, I charge at the monster. Again. Before it has a moment to register, I stab the dragon in the foot. The monster cries out in pain, fire gushing out from its mouth. Then, while the dragon is in pain, I try to stab it again, but this time higher up. In its heart.

Before I can, the dragon's tail lashes out under me and causes me to stumble.

'You're a failure, Alexios Snow.' Is that the... dragon? 'You're not meant to be a hero.'

And it's as the dragon opens its mouth, to probably eat me, that I feel myself being shaken to reality.

I'm surprised to see it's already morning. The dream had felt so short. It's hard to believe that so many hours had passed.

I forget about the dream soon enough. It's hard to remember trivial things like that knowing that I will be entering the arena. That I would become one of the tributes that I have seen die on the television.

I'm glad when it's Kaniel and not Tigris who comes to get me. He guides me to the roof after dressing me in a white shirt and pants. I won't be wearing this into the arena. The final dressings and preparations will be done alone in the catacombs under the arena itself.